Fix Myself
by Deadlines and Commitments
Summary: -RomaCan/CanMano, AU. Lovino surely didn't expect anything good to come out of life, especially after his teenage years. What he didn't see coming, was that thanks to a piano and a plush bear, he would meet the personification of happiness, who came with amethyst eyes and an undeniable love for pancakes.
1. Author's Note

_**A/N:** So, here it is- the beginning of the remake of this crap. Even though I changed up the summary a bit, I swear the main storyline will remain, but it'll come later in the story. I really hope you like it~!_

_**Warning:** Main pairing is RomaCan/CanMano, yet it will come later in the story. Spamano and SpaBel in the first few chapters, USUK, among other side pairings. The rating will more than likely go up in later chapters. Btw, no offense to Spanish accents- you know how Lovi is. Self-hate, and maybe even mentions of self-harm._

_**Disclaimer:** When Hungary stops loving yaoi, I will become the owner of Hetalia._


	2. Nefelibata

_**nefelibata**_

_(n.) lit. "cloud-walker"; one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams, or one who does not obey the conventions of society, literature, or art._

* * *

Happy people are nonetheless the same old crap; yet unhappy people are all unhappy in a different way. And now, you will discover _my _way of being unhappy.

Loving him was like loving the summer wind that blew by the Spanish streets of Valencia.

Crap… Did I really just think that? Ignore that, per favore. Now that I look back on it, I see that my thoughts as a teenager were just plain fucking stupid. Especially since they reflected exactly how I felt towards that tomato bastard.

That stupid Spanish idiot, who went by the name of Antonio, had to make my (somewhat) peaceful life a living hell. I mean, life was bad enough with the idiot I have as a brother, my dimwitted grandfather trying to force me to like girls, and the worst part of it all- school. I know most teenagers and kids hate it, and I don't blame them. School in Spain was especially hard, seeing as I had to learn Spanish in order to attend it. I doubtlessly would have preferred to stay back home in Italy. I had taken Spanish lessons over the summer, and was now ready to begin winter term in that idiotic school, the Hetalia Academy.

I remember the day was September the tenth, in 1996, when the worst part of my life officially began.

Imagine me, an awkward, lanky teenager, standing before the gates of what I knew would be hell. I swallowed thickly as I showed my student ID to the guards at the gate, to which they nodded and let me inside. I frowned as I looked around and heard people conversing in Spanish with their –fucking annoying and irritating— thick accents, and I settled for looking down at my new black leather shoes as I walked towards the main building. "Hola, amigo! You don't look happy at all!" And that's the moment where I should have killed myself. I looked up with a frown to see that bastard with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, looking down at me. I swear, he possibly couldn't have looked any more stupid—probably, just as dumb as those retarded cartoon characters.

I glared at him, about to spit on his face. "What the hell do you want?" I shot plainly, not bothering to beat around the bush. I just wanted that idiot to leave me alone.

But turns out, he didn't get my subtle hints which said that he was bothering me, and not even the not-so-subtle ones. "Why the fuck won't you leave me alone, you damn bastard?! I don't want you to keep stalking me! Are you a pedophile, or what?!" I exclaimed one day, when the yellow leaves began to fall off of the trees in the courtyard, someday in late October. I was starting my very first year of Bachillerato, and he was already in the last one, meaning he was nearly two years older than me.

"That is because I like you, Lovi." He had answered as we walked down the hallway to our next class—or more like I was walking to my next class and he was just following me around to annoy me -, simultaneously wrapping both arms around my waist in a tight embrace from behind. At the time, it had seemed that all of the things he told me had been true. I felt my cheeks go up in the scale of redness as I tried pushing him away, but the bastard wouldn't budge. "Por favor, let me hug you. Just this once." I closed my eyes in hopes that the anger would come, but it didn't. It never did. So I just awkwardly stood there, reluctantly letting him run his hands all over my torso, as my cheeks reached the maximum level of redness possible. I just have one word to say:

Bastard.

Ha-ha… I should have known, when life gives you a tomato, it's always waiting for the moment when you're about to eat the tomato. And then life takes your tomato, and kicks you in the balls. "You like me… as a friend, right?" I asked hesitantly, both of my dark eyebrows puckered up in a little frown as I opened my eyes again. As an answer, he shook his head slowly, resting his chin on my shoulder and letting out a soft chuckle, as if he were making fun of me.

"…No." His answer made me remain for a few seconds frozen, in shock. The little voice inside my head—which for some reason resembled my fratello's voice –was screaming frantically, warning me to run right that second and never, ever look back. But being the dumb adolescent I was at the time, I decided not to listen, and instead just stared worriedly at the bastard, giving him a look that told him that I obviously was questioning his sanity. After all, I was nothing special. I never had, and I would never be. I was just an irritating and cranky young man, in nonno's words. I might be that, I might be not. But one thing I could be completely certain of was that I was exactly what nobody wanted. On gym class, I was always chosen last, and always sent to the bench. In lab, the teacher had to force somebody else to pair up with me. At lunch, I always sat by myself. So why did Antonio want me, when every single girl was literally drooling for him? Particularly this Belgian exchange student named Emma Jacobs. They were basically best friends, and let me tell you—it was plain fucking noticeable just how much she actually loved him.

Want to hear about something terribly stupid? Well, teenagers are fucking bloody—I learnt that from some British bastard, he is quite good at swearing, I must say – idiotic, imbecilic, naïve, stupid and brainless. And, I am very ashamed to say that I was once one of them. Easily fooled, easily depressed. But hey- I was a cloud-walker at the time. I loved to imagine how things would be in the future, with optimism that was just too much, and I blame that optimism for making me the person I am today.

"Then… what do you like me as?" I asked him, and I could have sworn that at that moment I looked like a lost lamb, scared of what might be the outcome of encountering in the woods the wolf everyone was afraid of.

"Just meet me at the gate after school." With that, he pecked my lips for a few seconds, let go of me and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me standing like an idiot and looking at his ass. Which, by the way, was perfect. I only blinked after a few seconds, before shaking my head and turning towards the left, quietly stepping through the doorway of my Physics class.

Well, there was nothing left to lose, I told myself.

What I didn't know, was that I was wrong. Terribly wrong.


End file.
